It’s one of those weekends….

I plan to move next Wednesday – and only because my parents are being stellar and helping me out.  It’s a boring story, but the bottom line is that I don’t want to pay extra to move in early.  So Mom and I are moving me in before I leave for work, and then Mom is helping clean and tidy.  Thanks, Mom!

So I have been making lists…

cleaning supplies

apartment needs

things to order….electricity, gas, etc.

things needed for second move day… rent a van, etc.

bills that need address change

my budget

I am now faced with a flurry of post-it notes that come in two varieties… the standard square 2″x 2″ yellow and a green one that says, “If life gives you olives…make martinis!”  And, a martini has sounded like heaven for quite a bit of time now.

I also have some random pink slips of paper that are taped along my window sill.

Thanks to a phenomenally expensive apartment search, my ability to pay to move my furniture from California has been briefly postponed.  So, once again, parents to the rescue.   How old am I?  Well, I will be pilfering my parents’ garage for assorted furniture so that I am not living in a 1 bedroom apartment with only an inflatable mattress and a wine crate full of books.  Romantic as that might sound.  Frankly, that sounds more squatter-esque.

On the bright side, I just received encouraging word that my property may be rented long-term, which means I can afford to move my furniture, and frankly my apartment too.  So let’s have a collective finger crossing on that one, shall we?

Off to escape lists for the next few hours with a run and my weekly NY Times, coffee, and almond croissant.  Lists are for after 11AM.

As ever,

K. Quinn